


Flowers

by Coriopsis



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Angst, Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 09:26:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4999504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coriopsis/pseuds/Coriopsis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They put flowers on ya, mech.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> For tf_rare_pairing weekly request promps: Jazz/Tracks "They put flowers on ya, mech."  
> http://tf-rare-pairing.livejournal.com/631702.html

Jazz stands watch, cold rain running down his plating, even after all the other Autobots had returned to duty. 

Right now, it was the humans' turn. Sparkplug had come and gone. This weather wasn't kind to a man his age, even if it did fit the mood. Spike, Carly, and Daniel were nearby, though they had taken Daniel inside. Couldn't have the kid getting sick and they'd paid their respects. No one from the government had come. There had been some official condolences. Vague letters or phone calls. The officials couldn't tell one Bot from another except for OP and Bee. Bitterness starts to build in his spark.

The black and white mech is pulled out of his thoughts as two of the three young men start to depart for the warmth of the indoors. One young human remains, determined to finish whatever he was doing, weather be damned. 

Jazz moves closer, blocking some of the wind and rain. Its a useless gesture, since Raoul is already soaked through and doesn't seem to notice. His boombox, a normal, human one for once, plays club music just loud enough for the two to hear. Most people would call the choice of music inappropriate and the Witwickys would certainly have strong words with Raoul if they could hear it. They'd been close to spitting nails when the Bop Crew had shown up in their usual studded jackets and headbands. Jazz understood, though.

Raoul steps back, surveying their work and uses his sleeve to wipe what was definitely rain off his face. Because tough city guys never cry.

“Go an warm up, Raoul. Did ya bring a change of clothes?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” he sighs. “Never thought I'd be here. Not like this.”

Jazz nods, nudging the young man toward the Ark. He's been in this position too many times, but he'll admit he hadn't quite expected it to happen here so soon. Or to this mech.

Once he's alone, Jazz kneels and lays his fingers carefully on Tracks' grayed chest. Mostly gray. Track's frame is spotted with color and the flame decal is a bright yellow and orange, surrounded by a line of blue. The mech leans in, getting a better look at the decal.

“They put flowers on ya, mech.” Jazz smiles sadly, rain running down his cheeks.


End file.
